The stories behind the buildings, statues and other points of interest that make Manhattan fascinating.

Saturday, May 2, 2015

Hats, Cloaks, and Bootleg Alcohol--No. 714 Broadway

In 1893 Myer Finn’s old four-story brick building at No. 714
Broadway was flanked by modern loft-and-store buildings. No. 712 was completed that year and doubled
No. 714 in height. On the northern side,
No. 716 had been completed two years earlier—a fantastic six-story beauty designed
by Alfred Zucker with terrifying gargoyles staring down at Broadway.

Finn (whose first name sometimes appeared as Meyer) took
advantage of the commercial building boom along this section of Broadway and offered No. 714 for sale. His buyers,
however, would be surprising.
Trans-Atlantic negotiations were carried on via cable and on February
13, 1893 the Real Estate Record and Builders’ Guide reported that Finn had sold
the old building “to C. Hermann, of Frankfort-on-the-Main, Germany, and Dr.
Heinemann for $125,000.” The German
investors paid the equivalent of about $3.4 million in today’s dollars.

Hermann and Heinemann would soon transfer title to
German-born developers Emanuel Stern and David Schwartz. In 1895 the pair commissioned the firm of
Buchman & Deisler to design a skyscraper on the site. The
well-rounded architects were responsible for both residential and commercial architecture. In 1893 they had completed
a large addition to the Bloomingdale Department Store on 59th Street; in 1896 they would finish the
Alexander Building for shoe merchant Andrew Alexander along the Ladies’ Mile;
and the following year they would start work on their masterful Art Nouveau New Era Building at No. 495 Broadway.

In January 1896 Buchman & Deisler filed plans for “an
eleven-story brick and stone store.” The
cost to the owners was estimated at $140,000--$4 million for the building
alone by today’s standards, not counting the cost of the real estate.

Completed in 1897, the neo-Classical structure rose head and shoulders
above its two neighbors. Clad in
limestone, its dignified ornamentation was, for the most part, restrained. Two building-width balconies, at the fourth
and tenth floors, relieved the verticality of the design. The cast iron shop window at street level
projected slightly beyond the façade.
Expanses of glass on the upper floors were made possible by the steel
and cast iron frame.

The building was open only a few months when it became part
of a puzzling mystery. On August 2, 1897
a man took the ferry to New Jersey and, at 3:00 in the afternoon, stood at the
corner of Monroe Street in Passaic and shot himself with a 38-calibre revolver. The New York Times reported “The bullet entered over the
heart. The cause is said to have been
despondency. He came to Passaic on
purpose to commit suicide. He will die.”

The dead man was identified initially as “J. L. Jacobi of
351 West Fifty-eighth Street, New York, a dealer in cloaks at 714 Broadway.” The 58th Street address was the
St. Albans residence hotel; but investigation showed that neither the New York
City Directory nor the New York Business Directory listed anyone named
Jacobi. And inquiries at No. 714
Broadway revealed no one by that name doing business there.

The connection to the hotel was a possible lead. A reported asked around and found that “a Mr.
Jacobi has rooms for himself, wife and three children. The family took possession of their rooms a
week ago. They came from the South.” The clerk was unaware of Jacobi’s initials
and refused to allow the reporter to give his card to the elevator man to take
to Mrs. Jacobi.

Small manufacturers, mostly apparel firms, filled the
building—like Gumbiner & Fox and Mark H. Cohen & Brother who were
tenants in 1899. In April that year it
was nearly sold to a rather surprising buyer—Meyer Finn and his partner, M. Kahn. According to the Register and Guide Finn
regained his old property by paying a bargain-basement price of about $100,000—about
70 percent of the construction cost.

But he and Kahn rapidly resold to operators Stern & Schwartz. It was no doubt a profitable transaction. When the new owners sold No. 714 in January 1901, the
New-York Tribune reported the purchase price at “about $285,000” and was called “the largest
real estate deal made in the Broadway wholesale district for some time.”

Mack, Latz & Co. was in the building that year. The manufacturers of children's apparel loaded
nine cases of clothing onto the wagon of expressman Herman W. Brand on Friday,
March 22, 1901. Brand made a subsequent stop on West 3rd Street to make
another pick up and when he came out “his horse and wagon and goods had
disappeared,” according to a police report.

The Mack, Latz & Co. goods were valued at about
$1,200. Within two hours police found
the empty wagon and horse at South and Clinton Streets. The heist was the work of what police termed
“a bold gang of wagon thieves who have been operating with single success in
the clothing district for several weeks.”

The crooks would not be free for long, however. The following afternoon Detective Sergeants
Foye, Clarke and Becker broke into the apartment of Jacob Kutner and his
24-year old wife, Mary at No. 411 Sixth Avenue.

Inside were the Kutners, 23-year old Edward Raymond “who
described himself as a ‘vocalist,’” and 41-year old peddler Louis
Greenberg. The New York Times reported “When
the police broke in Greenberg was bargaining with the others for the plunder,
which was scattered all over the place” and said “all found in the place were
arrested.”

Edward Raymond was, in fact, not a vocalist, but a gangster
with the alias of “Abe” Randsky. When he
felt he was being set up by his confederates to take the rap, he talked to the
police regarding a plea deal. The
Times said “He did this despite the treat made to him by his associates that if
he turned State’s evidence he would not live long after to gloat over the
others’ discomfiture.”

On May 16 he testified before Judge Foster in General
Sessions and explained that he “Blowed on me pals, who done me dirt.” Raymond told the court that the gang had a
large “fence” on the East Side who would take the loot. “the goods were shipped immediately to other
cities,” wrote The Times.

When the Monarch Suspender Company took four floors of the
building in 1902, it agreed to a rental of $7,500 a year. Hat makers were also leasing space here,
like The Crescent, “makers of trimmed and ready-to-wear hats” and Lamer &
Lewy, “manufacturers of bonnet and hat frames” which were here in 1904. Suit and coat makers Per, Mamolen &
Locks, Co. who leased the 5th floor, had a close call that same
year.

On November 21 Policeman Campbell was standing near No. 714
Broadway when a canvas-covered wagon drew up at the curb. The driver noticed the officer and drove
on. According to The Sun the following
day, “Campbell thought that was queer and shadowed the wagon. It drove around a lot of corners, and finally
to 714 Broadway again, where it backed up to the curb.”

As Officer Campbell watched from the shadows, two men came
out of the building carrying armfuls of fabric.
He waited until 15 rolls had been loaded onto the wagon before
descending on the driver and one of the thieves. “The other got away.”

Police found the steel latticed door leading to the fifth floor
broken open and the wooden door behind smashed.
“Piled up in the hallway were thirty-seven rolls of cloth, 150 overcoats
and 100 suits of clothing,” reported The Sun.
“Desks and drawers in the place had been broken open and rifled. The cloth found in the wagon was said to be
worth $75 a roll.”

The crook caught removing the fabric from the building was
identified as Henry Goldberg. His
interest in the caper was understandable
He was a tailor.

Surprisingly, along with the apparel firms (there were at least
nine different garment companies in the building in 1914) real estate companies
shared space here. S. P. Prager; the
Simon Berg Realty Co. and Leopold Sinsheimer (he owned the building) ran their
real estate operations here in 1914.

As the garment district moved north of 34th
Street during the Depression years, No. 714 retained its hat and clothing
tenants. In 1936 and ’37 the list
included the Everlast Underwear Co.; Stein Cap Co.; Edward Wechsler, “ladies’
blouses;” and the Kessler Clothing and Hat Co. along with about seven other
garment firms.

But not everyone in the building was busy making clothes. In March 1939 the principals of Wald
Merchandise Company, Inc. were arrested on suspicion of manufacturing denatured
bootleg alcohol.

The 1940s saw the first real change in the type of
businesses renting space here. Although
in 1941 firms like Morris Chesner, “ladies’ hats,” the G. S. Sportswear Co. and
the Glasgow Hosiery Corp. were still in the building, they were the last
holdouts of the former garment center.
In 1943 the street-level store where once ribbons and trimmings were
sold was leased to Grand Union Equipment Co. which sold “general merchandise.”

In the mid-1940s the Carnival Novelty Co. sold the items
young men won for their sweethearts at fairs and carnivals—“real fur Scottie dogs,
Goo-goo eyed chenille dolls, plaster figure animals, fox fur tails” and “swagger
canes.”

As the Noho and Soho neighborhoods were rediscovered by
artists in the last quarter of the 20th century, they were refurbished. The spacious lofts
where Edwardian women once toiled over sewing machines, with their vast
windows, were perfect for artists living and working spaces.

In 1982 No. 714 was joined internally with No. 716 Broadway
and the upper floors were renovated into “Joint living/work quarters for
artists.” That too would change. Once the home of struggling
artists, 3-bedroom apartments in the building now have a starting price of
around $5 million.